


White Chocolate

by orphan_account



Category: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005)
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Fingerfucking, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Kissing, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:29:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26200411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Nobody ever enters Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, so nobody ever exits. But the ever so successful chocolatier is preparing to release five exclusive golden tickets to the public, and he has decided to allow in one interviewer before doing so.
Relationships: Willy Wonka/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 59





	1. Pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you're into Willy Wonka Tiktok too? (Duke if you ever read this ily and i think your content is amazing omg)  
> Yeah there's smut in this. If you're here just for the smut, totally understandable. It's in Pt. 3
> 
> I also tried to use seemingly unisexual words so this could be read as either gender. Though, the reader may seem more feminine because, well, I'm a female and kind of used myself as a model for the reader (aka, you.)

The last thing I saw outside was white. Uninhibited purity gracefully floating from above to coat each and every inch of what stayed inanimate below. It was dark, but that couldn't overshadow the white. No, the snow was the most prominent thing, perhaps too much. It was deathly cold, and I was alone in the night. Or, I was, because a black car had pulled to a stop in front of me and the door swung open. It was my ride. To where? Willy Wonka's factory, of course, but that didn't answer anything. The place was as mysterious as Wonderland, so for all I knew, I was on the road to a mythical world.

There were no windows on the car, and perhaps this was deliberate. Stories of Willy Wonka tell that he is a private man, so it made sense that he would want to hide my identity as well. I could only see by a single light on the roof of the interior, illuminating the velvet red car seat I sat on and the equally red-colored walls around me, but there was a barrier between me and where I believed the driver should be. How mysterious. I couldn't help but scratch at the leather of my satchel a bit as I wondered how close we must be to the factory, and I also wondered what kind of man this Wonka was and the reasons for his secluded lifestyle.

My pondering was disrupted when I felt the vehicle come to a rest, and almost immediately the door beside me flung open. No one was outside. Assuming that the open door was my cue to get out I warily set a foot out on the snow-covered concrete, glancing around to see what I could make of my surroundings. The darkness gave no aid, however, and when my body was free from the car, the door shut and the vehicle drove away, leaving me outside of a single iron door mere feet from me. I looked down at my wrist. 11:48 P.M. My appointment with Mister Wonka was in twelve minutes, but there was no one outside to escort me into the building. As much as I wanted to wait outside for further instruction, I did not want to keep the man generously offering his time waiting, so without further ado I stepped forward and opened the door to the factory, to Willy Wonka's palace.

The moment I stepped inside, I was greeted with a warmth that mirrored the cold so delightfully well it made me sigh in a relief I didn't realize I needed. It was then that I also noticed how my heart raced as I breathed and how my fingers trembled as I slipped off my thick coat. To say I was nervous was an understatement. I was going to be the first person to come close to Mister Wonka in years. Thus, it was safe to say that the question that lingered the most within me was: What was he like?

As I exhaled out as much of the nerves that were willing to settle, I made my first steps down the long hall that extended as far as I could see. It wasn't the most ideal thing to take note of, but the taps of my shoes against the floor made the silence a deafening terror. Oh, how much I wanted to claim what I came for and take my leave. How odd that a chocolate factory proved to be so eerie. But I did not turn back, and I arrived at yet another door, to which I opened and found myself in a lobby. The decoration was minimal here, most likely due to the nonexistent annual number of guests, but someone did sit at the reception desk. Someone remarkably... small.

"Um, excuse me." I cleared my throat as I approached the desk. "I'm here for Mister Wonka. I believe he has an interview scheduled with me?"

No words were said, but the person pointed up to the clock hanging above them. "11:57 P.M." it read in an exotic font.

"Right, uh... Thank you," I muttered before turning and sitting myself down on a red leather loveseat. Nervous, my mind told me. My fingers absentmindedly fiddled with themselves while I anxiously watched the clock. Only 11:58. What was he like? Admittedly, I've never read much about him. Though, in my defense, what was there to read? He is a successful chocolatier who never ventures outside his factory, so what more was there to know? 11:59. I am nervous, yet I'm reminded that I'm the one who accepted this job. Just what kind of man is Willy Wonka? That question was for me to answer and me alone. I am the only interviewer he has allowed in, and perhaps that's what made me feel so tense right now.

An abrupt "ding!" was all it took to steer my attention to the other side of the room where an elevator made of glass took a stop. Who I saw inside was who I then believed to be the one and only Willy Wonka himself. A velvety red coat and black clothing underneath, Mister Wonka was a tall and thin pale man with an undeniably silly haircut - a bob ending at his chin - and an iconic top hat to top him off. His hands were clad in purple, leather gloves, and in one hand he had a cane. What did I expect a chocolatier to look like? I'm not sure, I had never given much thought to the chocolate business or its fashion, but looking at Mister Wonka now made me rather... Well, how to say it? Intrigued? He was younger than I expected.

"Oh, welcome, starshine. Welcome to my grand ol' factory! I'm Willy Wonka, and you must be the interviewer," Mister Wonka said as soon as the elevator opened and he stepped out of it. I stood up to greet him.

"Yes, hello. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Wonka. My name is (Y/N). I've been looking forward to this interview with you." A blatant lie, but I smiled with my words and held out my hand to shake.

"Ah, yeah." He briefly took my hand and gave it a simple shake. "You more than I," he muttered before he turned away back to the elevator. "Here, come on, my elevator will take us somewhere much more suitable. Hop on," he said with a gesture for me to follow.

I complied and followed Mister Wonka into the elevator, standing in the corner and keeping to myself to give us as much room as possible. The box was quite cramped and I didn't want to intrude into Mister Wonka's personal space. My eyes landed on the elevator buttons. "There are so many rooms," I said aloud, mainly for my own noting.

"Why, yes, my dear, there are many rooms. I have just about any room you can think of. I have a whipped cream room for authentic 'whipped' cream, a television room, and even a hair cream room. It's all quite necessary in creating only the most delicious candy in the world! Hahah." His stiff chuckle quieted and he turned to me with an odd grin. "Why don't you pick one?"

"Oh, I suppose." I obliged though I was, in fact, curious of the seemingly countless rooms and reached over to press the first button I saw: the Invention Room. Instantly, the elevator shot up and jerked to the side, traveling at an astonishing speed through the enormity of the factory. I stumbled into the crystal clear wall in the wake of it and held myself up to avoid crashing into Mister Wonka.

"Careful now, you'll miss the wonderful show," Mister Wonka said as I steadied myself, making me turn my gaze upwards to see the "wonderful show."

And indeed, it was wonderful. A million fireworks of all shapes and colors of the rainbow exploded in every direction around us, and some were so close that I momentarily feared it would shatter our containment into a billion little pieces. I squinted my eyes to find their source and saw that more of those miniature people were shooting off the fireworks at bullseyes. "What are they?" I asked, referencing of course to the unfamiliar beings.

"Fireworks, silly! Duh, hahah," Mister Wonka tittered.

"No, I mean those people. They are so small."

"Well those, starshine, they are called Oompa Loompas. They are natives to the distant Loompaland, which, by the way, does exist. I was there. They work here in my factory for me, and I pay them with cocoa beans, which is very valuable in their land. They're quite exceptional workers."

I hummed in acknowledgment and turned my attention back to the firework spectacle, but we were past them. We were in another area now, shooting down a dim tunnel and making turns in every angle until we ultimately slowed to a stop, and the elevator and a door to a room opened before us. This must be the Invention Room.

"This is the Invention Room," Mister Wonka started, gesturing widely as he walked inside, "this is where each and every delectable piece of Willy Wonka candy is created. My workers are always working around the clock to make millions of little children around the world so happy. And adults, too! Who says adults can't enjoy candy?"

I observed the place as I followed him. Flasks, containers, and tubs all fizzled and steamed from chemicals beyond my recognition. Oompa Loompas wandered about, carrying substances and working various machinery. It was the exact image of a scientist's brainstorming space. I felt mesmerized by it. "How much candy would you say comes out as a success?"

Mister Wonka paused in his place. "Well, you see, each person is a different person, so they each have a different set of taste buds. Some candy is more popular with people who prefer a certain flavor, and other candies are more popular with other people. Children tend to prefer the candies with exciting sugary flavors, while the richer flavors are more preferred by their par-..." He abruptly stopped talking, and his eyes stared into a place far from here.

I frowned and leaned closer to him to catch what he was saying.

"P-... Pa-... P-papa...?" Mister Wonka softly murmured to himself, nearly too quietly for me to hear.

"... Parents?" I finished for him, not bothering to wait for him to get around to finishing his sentence.

His eyes focused back on me. "Oh, is that what they are?" He then walked away towards a large machine, making me raise an eyebrow and follow closely behind. "The candy that is made here is so very delicious. Here, please, have a taste for yourself." He pulled down a lever and in a series of metal parts working themselves, a single, slim piece of gum was dispensed. Mister Wonka plucked it from the machine and held it out in front of me. "It's a strip of gum that has as many flavors as you can imagine, like an entire Chirstmas dinner. Go on, just be sure to spit it out when it gets too sweet. We've had some, ah... complications with it."

I warily eyed him at his last statement, but I nonetheless took the piece and stuck it into my mouth. As I hesitantly chewed, a blast of unexpected flavors met my tongue and my eyes widened in awe. "Incredible! I've never had gum like this before!"

Mister Wonka smiled while keeping a close eye on my face. "I had the intention of mimicking a full course dinner when I came up with it. Ah, alright now, let's spit that out, yeah?"

I spit the gum out onto my hand as soon as the gum's flavor became sweet and Mister Wonka snapped his fingers. An Oompa Loompa came by with a small bin where I discarded the unfinished piece.

"Well then, now that you've gotten a sample of the factory, how about that interview?"

"Ah, right." I opened my satchel and dug through it, pulling out a small recorder. "I can just record for now, and then we can sit down and answer questions later if you'd like."

"Oh, record? Hahah. How about you don't?" Mister Wonka suggested, lips pursing together.

"Mister Wonka, with all due respect, part of my job is having a least one audio file with you."

He deeply sighed, and I did not miss the annoyance laced in it. "That will be just dandy, then! How about we record and sit down? Come on, let's go somewhere more comfortable," he enthusiastically offered, his mood becoming a complete one-eighty. He made his way back to the elevator, and I just behind him. "I have an office with the most coziest sofas you will ever sit on."


	2. Pt. 2

We were back inside the elevator, and I had myself braced for the speed when Mister Wonka pressed a button. We traveled through the factory and by many rooms, most that I would have liked to have a tour of but didn't want to inconvenience Mister Wonka with. The place was grand and compelling, I almost felt jealousy towards the five undetermined lucky children who would have the privilege of exploring it in the not so distant future. Was there a chocolate factory so magical anywhere else? I couldn't imagine so, for only Willy Wonka could be the king of a Candyland it seemed. As that thought entered my mind, I caught the scent of a wonderful chocolate aroma and glanced around to find its source. We were nowhere near chocolate makers in this part of the factory, and the only thing within close proximity was Mister Wonka.

Ah, of course, Mister Wonka wears a fragrance of opulent chocolate. How sweet. I allowed a small smile to lift up the corners of my mouth and I turned my head away to shield it from the chocolatier. However, I found his reflection in the glass and for a moment our eyes locked, but he corrected himself and turned away.

The elevator stopped again at a hallway, and I stayed behind Mister Wonka to let him lead the way to his office. He pulled out an impressive collection of keys when we came to a door and unlocked it once he found the right one (though not after failing with three other keys.) Mister Wonka being the polite host opened the door and held it open for me to walk in. When I stepped forward, the first thing I took note of was the numerous paintings of both chocolate and candy lining the walls. The walls were painted crimson, and the carpet below was purple. On the far side of the room was a large dark oak desk while in the middle of the room were two red sofas facing each other and a dark oak coffee table resting between them.

Mister Wonka went on ahead. "Please do make yourself at home, my dear. It's not every day someone gets to sit in the office of my factory, hahah."

"So it's true that you're the only one here, then?" I questioned as I took a seat on the sofa opposite from the sofa Mister Wonka propped himself on.

"No, no, of course not. The Oompa Loompas are great company, you know. They don't really speak, but I find them to be much better than those silly machines most other factories use."

I hummed in response and opened my satchel, pulling out the recorder as well as a notepad and pen. I leaned forward and set the recorder on the coffee table, pressing the record button. "Alright, Mister Wonka. Let's start off with some general questions, shall we? How long have you been in the chocolate business?"

Mister Wonka softly smiled to himself. "Gee, for as long as I can remember. Chocolate has always been my passion. I even studied chocolate when I was just a tender child, yeah... Hah."

I scribbled away while he spoke. "Can you recall the first time you became interested in creating a career out of chocolate?"

"Why, yes, I can. So vividly, too. It was when I had my first piece of chocolate. It was in the ashes of the fireplace because my fath- ah... F-... F-fa..." Mister Wonka stumbled over his words, and I could see that he was once again out of it.

I decided to move on to the next question. "Can you tell me what it is like to live a life in seclusion as a wealthy and successful businessman?"

Mister Wonka blinked several times and looked back at me. Seems he brought himself back. "Huh. Ah, well, who says I'm alone? As I've said, my dear starshine, the Oompa Loompas are just such gosh darn great company! Life in here is just as great as it is out there," he chortled, eyes gently crinkling in the corners.

"I see... So, Mister Wonka, I have received word that you are planning on releasing five 'golden tickets' to the public worldwide that will allow select children to visit your factory. Please tell me more about that."

"What more is there to tell? I'm going to put five golden tickets into separate original Willy Wonka chocolate bars, and wherever those bars go will be the prize to any child lucky enough to get it. The children who get those five tickets will be the winners of a grand tour of my wonderful factory!"

I paused my jotting and looked up at the chocolatier. "And what is your ultimate motive behind the golden tickets?"

"Does there have to be a motive? I just woke up one brilliant morning and thought, 'It sure would be nice to be able to give a few children the privilege to be in my factory.' Wouldn't that be nice if you were one of those children, yeah? If I do say so myself, my dear starshine, my factory is just the place of every child's dream. I have a chocolate room where everything is edible, I do. Wouldn't you like to be in that?" Mister Wonka explained with a distinct look in his eye. I couldn't help but notice it, there was a certain youthfulness in the way he spoke about his factory. It was like he was a child and he was living in a world only so many could imagine, and I couldn't lie and say I didn't find it endearing.

I slightly shook my head to clear it and wrote down what I needed. I could see Mister Wonka trying to peek at my notes in my peripheral. "Would you care if I asked some more personal questions?"

"Oh, no, I don't mind at all."

"Very well." I flipped over a page. "Can you tell me about your childhood, Mister Wonka? What sort of family did you grow up in?"

At that, Mister Wonka visibly stiffened and the far-off look returned to his eyes. I started to furrow my brows in worry. "My... childhood? Family...?" Mister Wonka whispered, still as a rock and staring into nothing.

I sat there in silence for a good ten seconds, carefully watching the man and trying to figure out just what was it that made him so gone. I was growing increasingly concerned by this point. "Mister Wonka? Mister Wonka!" I said, trying to snap Mister Wonka out of his trance.

It appeared to have worked because Mister Wonka then shot his gaze back to me. "I'm sorry, I was having a flashback."

"Do you get flashbacks often?" I reluctantly asked.

"No. Actually, I never do, hahah. How funny is that?"


	3. Pt. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're a bad nut, huh?

The minutes that followed consisted of me asking more questions (I decided to completely avoid the subject of family) and Mister Wonka answering them honestly yet vaguely. It was foolish to think that an interview would get me any closer look into his grayest areas. He was shut, beating around the bush to the answers that I wanted to find, but of course, wouldn't get. However, there was something enthralling about the mystery around him. What lies in the heart of a world-renowned candy maker who had his factory dormant until recently?

To my shame, I felt an insatiable urge to solve this puzzle known as Willy Wonka, but I knew I would never be able to see the finished picture alone. I was closer to him right now than anyone has been in a long time, and yet he was so distant. It excited me.

I swallowed down the sudden heartbeats that had risen to my throat. I was about to ask a risky question. "Mister Wonka, have you ever had any romantic partners?" I looked down at my notepad as I asked, pretending it was a question I already had written down.

I heard him let out a short cough. "Well, when you're making chocolate for all the world's children, there's hardly time for that, now is there?"

I reached out and pressed the pause button on the recorder, which earned me raised eyebrows from Mister Wonka. "Are you a virgin?"

"That's part of the interview?" Mister Wonka muttered to himself, face expressing his confusion. I set aside my notepad and pen.

"Mister Wonka," I began, standing up, "you have a fantastic factory, and I don't believe anyone will ever create chocolate as good as yours-"

"I agree."

"-But I think there is so much you're missing out on." I walked around the coffee table towards him, watching him freeze in place. "Don't you think so?"

"I, uh..." He stuttered over his words and nervously eyed me up and down, and I briefly wondered if I was making the wrong move. "Um, I, hahah... I don't know."

"Do you want to know?" I whispered lowly as I leaned above him. My eyes tracked the movement of his adam's apple bobbing up and down, and at that moment I wanted nothing more than to be all over him, but I held back out of fear of potentially scaring him off.

Nothing was able to leave Mister Wonka's lips though as his mouth formed multiple shapes attempting to create some sort of syllable, but alas he was speechless. I took this moment to advance and settled myself down on Mister Wonka's lap, my hips turned forward so I straddled him. I paused to allow him a chance to protest, but he remained silent and shifted his eyes to look at anywhere but me. I was a bit breathless, my own nervousness trying to bring me to logic over my bold actions, but I didn't want to go back. I wanted to stay right here and see just how much I could discover about Willy Wonka. I wanted him to discover me.

His breath hitched as my hand came up to cup his cheek, and before I could use this split-second to talk myself into a wise decision I pressed forward and planted my lips on his, soft skin meeting mine. I stayed only briefly and pulled back to search Mister Wonka's face for any distaste, but I was met with only wide eyes and pink-tinted snow flesh.

"Is this okay?" I softly asked. Even though he made no move to stop me, I still didn't want to overstep my bounds.

Mister Wonka still at a loss for words gave me a small, short nod that is was okay, and so I went back to kissing the chocolatier. I kissed him gently but firmly to ensure he could feel me, and I peeked open an eye to watch him flutter his eyes closed. Mister Wonka returned the kiss now, tilting his head and gingerly bringing his hands up to rest on my waist. Confident now of my endeavors, I poked out my tongue to swipe against his lips to get him to part them, and when he opened his mouth I slipped in my wet muscle. I was greeted with the flavor of sugar and cocoa as I danced my tongue with his, the slick, warm sensation wholly propelling me. His hands tenderly tightened on my waist and a soft moan rose from his throat while we pressed against each other devouring what we tasted. At one point I began to grind my hips down on his, which caused Mister Wonka to pull back and stifle a groan.

I pushed him down to lay on the sofa, never moving off of his lap. I then started a trail of kisses down his neck, occasionally taking his skin between my teeth and creating love marks. Mister Wonka responded to this by lacing his gloved fingers into my hair and holding my head close while he shivered beneath me. All I could think about was Willy Wonka, the successful chocolatier cut off from the rest of the world who was melting like chocolate now under my touch.

When I lifted my head, I took in what I had unraveled this man into. Heat had colored his once untainted white skin a beautiful flush, and his lips were red from the pressure of making out. His top hat had also fallen off in the process of laying down, and seeing him without it strangely felt more intimate, like I was closer to reaching his inner depths (I did my best to disregard the absurd length of his bangs.) My hands found their way under his shirt, feeling the smooth hidden flesh. "Mister Wonka -"

"Please," he interrupted, eyes closed and chest rising and falling deeply, "call me Willy, starshine."

"Willy. I would like to go all the way with you."

Willy's eyes half-opened to look at me. They were clearly glazed over with desire. "All the way? Hah... You're a very naughty one, yeah?" he teased, the corner of his lip turning up in a playful smirk.

I shot back a smirk of my own. "Will you allow me to please you?"

"Yes, please, starshine," he barely whispered, obviously missing the attention his body was receiving mere seconds ago. Upon the consent, I traveled one of my hands down to the front of his pants where I felt around the tent that had grown in his dark clothing. I watched his expression morph into one of frustration, aching for more than a simple caress. "Oh please, my dear, don't be a teaser."

And so, obliging to his request, I unzipped Willy's pants and reached into his boxers to free his appropriately sized erect member. It was pale just like the rest of him, save for the slightly flushed tip, and I swore I could feel it throb as I held it in my hand. I wasted no time in wrapping my lips around Willy's head, earning me a breathy "oh my" as his leather clad hand found its way back in my hair. I went straight to work, sinking my mouth down on his cock and pulling back up and repeating the cycle, attempting to reach further down each time. Willy meanwhile had a hand over his mouth to stifle his grunts as I expertly sucked him off, stroking the rest I couldn't reach and flattening my tongue along his shaft.

I popped off of his member when his grip on my hair tightened, and I didn't miss the look of frustration that took over his face when I didn't finish him. I moved and stood up to work my pants off, keeping eye contact with him as I did. Once my lower half was naked, Willy stared in awe with his mouth ajar and cheeks only pinker. I smirked to myself and climbed back over him.

"Willy, can you stretch me?" I sweetly asked while I grabbed his hand and put two of his fingers into my mouth, wetting the purple leather with my tongue the same way I did his dick. He bit his lip at the lewd action.

"And... How should I do that, my dear starshine?" Willy asked back, the ghost of a smirk dancing on his lips and I had to wonder if he was genuinely curious or just humoring me.

"Like this." I guided his hand down to my nether region, singling out one of his fingers and inserting it into my entrance. A shaky breath left me as his gloved finger grazed a tender spot. "Just... do finger things."

Once I let go of his hand, I felt Willy's finger gently pushing in and out of me as instructed. I moved back when I noticed him sitting up and let him be the one to tower above me now and take control. His clothed digit pressed against my walls, and each time he slid it in and out, it would hit the spot that made me tremble beneath him. I watched his eyebrows perk up in interest at that.

"Please, add another," I moaned my plea, admittedly shocked by his audacity to continue to touch me there. Willy complied and slipped in another finger beside the other one, and shamefully the squeaking of his leather gloves made me throb in arousal. "One more," I breathed out, wanting to feel myself stretch around him. When he inserted his third finger and applied pressure to that particular incredible place, my back arched and I coudn't stop the moan that escaped me, fighting to hold back orgasming too early. Tears threatened to fall however when a shit-eating grin took his lips and he continued to abuse it, watching me edge into oblivion. "Oh goodness, Willy, just take me!" I practically sobbed.

"What a bad nut you are," Willy cooed as soon as those words fell from my mouth. Complying with my request, he grabbed his member and lined the tip up at my entrance, carefully pushing into me. I groaned as I was further stretched by his length, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss.

I murmured a "move" once he bottomed out and he began a slow pace of sliding in and out of me. I let my eyes flutter shut as I relished in the pleasure of Willy Wonka exploring me, heat connected with heat. But it wasn't enough, I wanted more, just as Wonka must have wanted more when he began his own chocolate factory, craving everything he could reach. "Harder. Please, Willy," I begged and wrapped my legs around his waist, urging him on. He did as I asked, thrusting harder and faster into my depths and releasing his own groans of pleasure as I clenched around him, loving our friction. I dug my nails into the coat he still had around him, my breathing labored and entire being quaking under him while he rammed me, deliciously hitting my sweet spot each time. I couldn't hold myself back anymore, my vision went white as waves of pleasure conquered my body and my orgasm came full force making me moan Willy Wonka's name. His hands on my hips tightened while my muscles around him convulsed, and tears of ecstasy trickled from my eyes from the continued stimulation of his relentless thrusting. He felt so good, and I was sure I was in Heaven as I held him tight when another orgasm made a wreck out of me.

Willy pulled out after a few more thrusts and came next on my stomach, his cum dripping like white chocolate onto the shirt I never bothered to strip off. He slumped over me and we both spent the following moments chasing our breath and regaining composure. I was taken by slight suprise when Willy turned my face to plant a kiss on me, coaxing out my tongue into a hot, dirty dance with his own. I flashed him a smile when he pushed off and allowed me to get up and pull back on my pants, a little shaky after what we had just done.

I dug into my satchel and pulled out a few tissues to wipe my shirt with while he fixed his attire, straightening himself and putting back on his top hat to appear presentable again. "You know, my dear starshine, I've never had a romantic partner before," Willy suddenly commented, making me turn around to look at him, "but I'm not a virgin. Hahah."

I blinked several times as that last bit processed with me, and when it did, I let out a light laugh while my cheeks heated up. How unprofessional of me...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now available on my Wattpad (@andicamion)


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